


Quarantined: A Night to Forget

by reveriewit



Series: Stark Moments [2]
Category: Iron Man (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Gen, Secret Invasion (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 11:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19424836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reveriewit/pseuds/reveriewit
Summary: After making contact with the Skrulls on terran soil and the ensuing corruption of the the Stark Network (with the inclusion of Tony Stark's arc reactor), the futurist is taken into SHIELD custody despite the protests of reluctant ally Bucky Barnes.





	Quarantined: A Night to Forget

Tony doesn’t remember the journey back towards the city, the inherent obscurity of dark eyelashes fluttered closed, brown eyes barely breached by the intermittent lights of the highway bouncing off of exit signs that converged upon varied junctions. It’s all a haze and yet the window besides his seat had been sparingly opened, a minute gap which had allowed for a gentle stream of air to pass through and into the confined space of the vehicle. A singular means of comfort which swept over the heated skin of his brow, the flesh glistening in paralleled conclusion of his temperature increasingly rising.

The circle of light at the centre of his chest had continued to flicker, the previous surge of cycles having ebbed and trailed off into a more “regular” pattern. That is, if it could be perceived as such - it was **_sporadic_** at best, no longer as rejuvenating or thorough as it had once been in its endeavours to keep the shards of shrapnel edging closer to his heart. Echoes from another life filtering through as a cruel means of callousness.

_‘That could run your heart for fifty lifetimes...’  
‘...or something big for fifteen minutes.’_

Tony doesn’t remember the sound of heavily set footsteps approaching the vehicle in urgency as it had pulled up to the gates of Avengers Mansion, a heated exchange having ensued as commands were barked out amongst agents to take the fallen futurist into custody. Reports of every single venture the man had ever laid hands on withering into digital dust - zeroes and ones **_corrupted_** in a conflicted stalemate, unable to bypass a combination of proxies and protocols set into motion to hinder the traversal of all packets of data. Each of which were imperceptible when considered alone, and yet intrinsic when combined and implemented as a whole. Barnes’ protests falling on deaf ears as the ageing man had been hauled out of the truck, grunts of a struggle from the inventor’s unconscious body proving next to useless in aiding in its displacement.

Tony doesn’t remember the secondary journey to the SHIELD facility which had taken place, personnel reporting directly to Maria Hill at every checkpoint in which the engineer had survived through. Medical reports commenced and yet stifled with downtime of some of the tech that the organisation had in place, reverting to backup systems and equipment which were ever so slightly older and yet still in working condition if not lagging just a little. **_Obsolete_** in the inventor’s eyes, and yet in hindsight he wouldn’t have complained had he been awake to witness them attempting to stabilise him in a flurry of uttered iatric jargon **(** _after all, he once had to make do with what he could receive whilst in a dank cave in the middle of nowhere_ **)**. Contemplation as to whether to manhandle the malfunctioning arc reactor whose information was privy to agents of a certain **_elevated_** level, and most certainly not public knowledge. Considering the hindrances set in those troubling circumstances, it all happens remarkably fast.

**72 minutes,** to be exact, passing before the man finds himself confined to a room, the pale and clinical walls harshly reflecting with the artificial light that beams down from the ceiling to assault fatigued eyes. The arbitrary thought of ‘ _cut the power, J_ ’ automatically approximating on his lips and yet never quite spoken as realisation slowly begins to sink in with Tony gaining his bearings. Whilst the room offered no visible signs as to its location, there’s the **_soured stench_** of SHIELD crawling all over it, a heightened degree of awareness quickly encroaching over the futurist. He looks and feels like hell, a series of electrodes stuck to his chest and hooked onto a monitor attesting as such. Wires which are negligible in weight and yet the Avenger suddenly feels entirely **_tied down,_** as if a layer of lead rope had been burdened upon him.

Regardless of the fact that his breathing had been steady up until this point, it soon grows erratic, medical equipment increasingly bleeping as his heart rate rises. He desperately grabs at the patches, attempting to tug them off with varying degrees of success, tired joints persisting in their enfeebled state. There’s a discreet door to the side of the room and Tony practically stumbles in his bid to reach it, frantic hands grappling with a hint of a protrusion that resembles a doorknob, but with no means of triumph whatsoever. It remains firmly sealed shut and dread swiftly turns to **_rage,_** teeth bared in a snarl in sheer frustration as he clocks onto his frenzied reflection in the pane of glass opposite the cot he had been lying in. A curled up fist thudding into it in a bid for attention, damp skin throbbing with the repeated impact, purple lesions maligning tanned skin.

“I know you’re watching... I’m not some **_animal_** you can **_cage up!”_**


End file.
